


Eater of Worlds

by were_lemur



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Temporary Character Death, WIP Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 17,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were_lemur/pseuds/were_lemur
Summary: Aliens are fleeing Earth, fearing something called the "Eater of Worlds."  Wilfred Mott has been kidnapped -- or rescued -- by the Cactuses.  And a little girl from 2016 has arrived in Cardiff, bearing tales of something called a "Brexit."Set during early S2 of Torchwood, and an AU post-End of TIme.See mific's gorgeous art at http://archiveofourown.org/works/11399487!





	1. The End of Time?

For a moment, Wilf's brain refused to process what he was seeing; the Doctor simply leaped from the doorway and plunged into empty air.

Wilf lunged unthinkingly after him, and would have fallen if the boy-cactus _do cacti have sexes?_ asked the part of his brain that was always asking inane questions hadn't grabbed him by the back of his jacket and pulled him away from the hatch. 

It didn't matter. The Doctor was already out of sight.

"We have to turn back!"

The boy-cactus _and if they had sexes didn't they imply that they had -- no, he wasn't going to think about that_ looked from Wilf to the girl-cactus, but she shook her head.

"But the Doctor -- "

"Probably dead," the girl-cactus said. Even if he survived the fall, the first Master he comes across will probably kill him." She didn't sound cruel, just matter-of-fact. "Us too, if we stay around."

She did something to the console, and the ship goes nose-up. They were about to leave, he realized.

"You have to set down. You have to let me off!"

"Too dangerous."

"This is kidnapping!"

"Technically, I think it counts as a rescue," she said, and hit a button. The cactus ship sped up and climbed out of the gravity well, heading for open space.

Though he had absolutely no choice in the matter, Wilf couldn't help feeling like he was abandoning the Doctor.


	2. The Brain Thief

Her lungs were burning, her legs were burning, but Gwen Cooper kept running, desperate to close the distance with the gangly humanoid. It had already left three people dead, their skulls neatly sliced open, their brains scooped out.

She wasn't going to let it have a fourth.

For a moment, she lost track of her quarry, but Tosh's voice in her ear guided her until she'd regained sight of him, dodging down an alley. She followed him, forcing every last bit of speed.

She needn't have bothered; he'd run himself into a dead end. He stopped, then reversed course, running right at her.

Her gun was in her hand without her conscious thought. "Hands in the air!"

It kept coming; she had no choice but to fire. Long hours in the range had given her the skill to put a bullet exactly where she wanted it.

Unfortunately, the alien must have kept its vital organs in a different arrangement to humans. A bullet to the center of its chest didn't even slow it down.

She didn't have time for a second shot. It hit her and she slammed into the pavement. She tucked her chin at the last moment so she didn't hit her head, but the impact still knocked the breath from her lungs.

Before she could recover, the alien was on her. It straddled her, and used its lower pair of arms to pin her arms to the ground.

The alien pulled something from its pocket; a small, matte-black cylinder. _Lipstick?_ she thought dazedly, but then it twisted the end and a thin blade of the same metal flowed into existence. The leading edge was oddly fuzzy, and Gwen wondered if she'd hit her head after all, but then she realized; it was vibrating.

_The better to cut your brain out with, my dear._

"This will only hurt for a moment," the alien rasped in a voice that sounded like a violin being tortured. 

Gwen swept her hand frantically across the ground, but her gun was out of reach. She thought fast; keep it talking, Tosh would be guiding Jack to her position. "Why are you doing this? Why kill all of those people?"

"They were … unsuitable. You are better; smarter."

"Unsuitable for what?"

"The ship."

Gwen took a deep breath, and moved; curling her legs up, slamming her knees into the alien's back. It rocked forward, but didn't drop the vibrating blade.

"Do not fight me. It is a great honor -- and an easier death than the Eater of Worlds. You will -- "

The front of its head disappeared, and Gwen heard the thunderclap of a gunshot. It fell back, and Gwen could see Jack standing behind it, his gun still raised.

Gwen rolled the corpse off, and sat up. She wiped a hand across her face, and it came away streaked with deep orange fluid. At least it wouldn't be obvious to any bystanders -- or to Rhys when she got home -- that she was covered in blood.

"Owen's already on his way."

"I hope he's got some wipes." She stared down at the corpse. "Eater of Worlds."

Jack looked at her quizzically.

"That's what he said. An easier death than the Eater of Worlds." A chill slithered down her spine.

"Well. That's not at all ominous."

She looked at him, and he flashed a grin, like everything was back to normal. But the haunted look in his eyes, the one that had been there since he came back from seeing his Doctor, was still there.


	3. The Invisible Parade

While the rest of the world scurried about its business, the village of Little Minchely basked in the July sun.

Not everything was quiet, though. Laughing shrieks rose from Garden Lane, where a dozen children of various ages chased each other around the neighborhood, hiding behind bushes and between houses.

Sixteen years into the twenty-first century, people in other places kept their children inside. But in Little Minchely, everyone knew everyone else. It was perfectly safe.

A girl and a boy crouched in the shadow of the a porch. The girl scowled; it had been her hiding place first. But then she cocked her head.

"D'you hear that?"

"Hear what?" the boy asked.

"Drums!"

He frowned, listening, and then shook his head. "You're hearing things."

"You're just not listening enough."

"Anyway, it's probably just Sanctified Menace practicing in their garage."

"No, it's not," she said. "This is more ... " Her fingers patted her leg as she thought, _tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap_. "More _parade-y_ , she said at last.

"That's not even a word."

"I don't care. If there's a parade, _I'm_ going to go and find it."

He shrugged, and turned back to make sure he hadn't been spotted, while she slipped away. She ran across the yard, eyes sparkling with excitement.

People in other places kept their children inside, but in Little Minchely, everyone knew everyone else. There hadn't been a murder since 1903; everybody took pride in how safe their village was. Children roamed the neighborhood, and their parents were secure in the fact that someone would notice if there was serious trouble.

So nobody worried when the girl left Garden Lane, following the sound of drums.


	4. The Story Changes?

It seemed like an eternity since he'd last landed the TARDIS on the Ood Sphere. The Doctor stepped limped out into the ice. Except for the howling of the wind and the crunch of the snow beneath his feet, it was silent.

He'd barely taken three faltering steps when he saw the familiar form of Ood Sigma in the swirling snow. He stumbled, but the Ood caught him.

"You are injured."

"But not dead."

"No."

"The Master -- he didn't kill me." When he closed his eyes, he could still see his oldest friend, his best enemy, as if his last moments were seared onto his retinas. "Did I escape my fate?" If so, he didn't quite dare ask, at what cost? The Master was surely dead, Wilf was missing... "Or did we misread the prophecy?" 

"Or did the prophecy misread us?"

"Have you ever considered writing for a fortune cookie company? Just a sideline, in case this whole psychic thing doesn't pan out."

The Ood regarded him impassively.

And suddenly, the Doctor was too tired to joke. "I'd like to know if my head's safely off the chopping block," he said.

"Death comes to us all, in its time."

He thought of the Master, burning through the last of his energy for revenge. Of the radiation-burned body of the technician in the booth; he'd panicked and tried to break out, with fatal consequences. Of Adelaide Brooke, who he'd rescued from death on Mars only for her to take her own life on Earth, because she knew that the books needed balancing.

The books always needed balancing. There was always a price to pay, and he desperately hoped that Wilf wasn't the one paying it.

"Have you had any visions of my friend Wilf? Wilfred Mott? About this high, white hair -- "

"There have been no more visions of Earth."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Again, Ood Sigma kept his silence.

"Any advice?"

Still no answer. When he could no longer stand the wordless patience and compassion, he turned, forcing protesting muscles into motion.

"There's always something to save the world from," he said. "Always more worlds needing to be saved. I'd best be off, then."

"Farewell, Doctor. Fare well."

"See you around." With his back turned, he couldn't see if the Ood agreed or disagreed.

When he was safely back in the TARDIS, he let himself sag back against the door. He needed a few days in a healing coma and about a week's worth of peace and quiet -- but until he found Wilf, he couldn't rest.

Since the Ood hadn't been able to help, he would have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Pushing himself away from the door was a Hurculean task; the walk to the central console might as well have been a day's slog through mud.

Through sheer force of will, he reached his goal. He de-materialized the TARDIS, and plunged through the Vortex, heading for Earth.


	5. The Girl on the Invisible Lift

Another day, another rift flare. Which had meant another morning of searching, looking for whatever it had left. But aside from the complaints of power outages and a speeding car, there seemed to have been nothing to find.

Ianto had needed to stop and pick up some supplies, but Gwen had decided to walk. She could use a few hours of sunlight and calm, before the next crisis. She was surprised when Jack opted to join her. He hadn't been in a conversational mood, and after a few attempts, she'd stopped, and they'd fallen into a companionable silence. It felt good to be out and _not_ chasing after an alien or searching for a dangerous piece of tech.

They were almost back to the Hub when the drizzle turned into rain. Jack picked up his pace, as they reached Mermaid Quay, and Gwen had stretch her legs to keep up with him.

The rain hadn't deterred the tourists. Gwen swept her eyes across the crowd, a habit so ingrained she wondered if she'd be capable of losing it, even if she tried. She was looking for trouble, but also for anyone who might notice them disappearing when they stepped onto the invisible lift.

She swept her gaze forward to the patch of ground, forcing herself to look at it though the perception filter made her eyes want to slide away.

She was surprised to see a dark figure crouched beneath a brightly striped umbrella. She caught Jack's arm and pointed with her chin, while keeping moving as if she hadn't seen the figure.

"Ianto," he murmured into his earpiece, "Possible hostile on the invisible lift." Gwen saw him slide his hand down, clearing the gun for action.

She had to fight to focus on the figure. All she could see, beneath the umbrella, was that it was smaller than a human, and dark. 

Small, Gwen knew, didn't mean helpless. She felt her heart rate speed up; fight or flight.

Finally, they reached the paving stone. The umbrella raised, and tilted back -- and Gwen found herself looking down at a little girl, maybe seven or eight years of age. _Sandy hair, brown eyes,_ she noted, mentally filling out the report.

She might only _look_ like a little girl, she reminded herself; if her time with Torchwood had taught her anything, it was that appearances could be deceiving. And even if she was a little girl ...

"Are you a doctor?"

Gwen crouched down in front of the girl. "Are you hurt?" she asked. "Sick?"

The girl shook her head vehemently enough that her pigtails flew. "I don't need a shot," she said. Her nose wrinkled. "Or medicine."

The girl was pink-cheeked, clean-scrubbed. Well cared-for, unless Gwen missed her guess. But here she was, huddled beneath an oversized black hoodie that had seen better days.

If she'd still been on the beat, Gwen knew how she would add the pieces up. _Pretty little girl like that ..._

"My name is Gwen Cooper," she said. She gave the girl her best smile. "I'm a police officer, and I want to help you. Can you tell me your name?"

"Deborah Popper," she said. "But everybody calls me Debs."

"If you're not hurt or sick, why do you need to see a doctor?"

"The man said so." 

Gwen swallowed against the rising nausea; she suspected she knew what the doctor would find. "What man?"

"The man with the drums," she said. "He said I should wait right here until someone came, and then to say that I needed to see a doctor." Then she shook her head. "No. Not a doctor. _The_ Doctor."

Jack's Doctor?

"You're sure it was _the_ Doctor?" Jack asked, breaking across the conversation, and then, his voice suddenly tight, "What kind of drums?"

The girl looked up at Jack, as if noticing him for the same time. He crouched down in front of her as well, and gave her his best smile. "Hi there," he said. "I know a lot of doctors, and I just want to make sure I find the right one. Did the man tell you the doctor's name?"

"No. He said 'the Doctor,' that's all. I'm sorry."

"If you don't know, you don't know, there's no need to be sorry," Jack said, his grin still in place, but Gwen could see the tension in his eyes. "Why don't you tell me about the man with the drums."

"He had really blond hair, like my Aunt Elizabeth's. And he gave me his hoodie."

The rain increased; Gwen realized that the girl was still shivering. "Jack, let's go downstairs. We can get her warmed up."

"Right," Jack said, but the tension was still there. They stepped on, and Jack tapped on his wristband. The invisible lift began to lower.

"Oh, _epic_ ," Debs murmured, looking around. Her eyes were bright as she took in everything. A grin broke across her face when she caught sight of Myfanwy. "Is that a _pteranadon_?"

"Yes she is," Gwen said. "You must know a lot about dinosaurs."

The girl nodded, but kept looking around, wide-eyed. Finally, they reached the bottom. The girl unfolded herself, revealing trainers and bare legs, and stepped off. _Approximately 120 centimeters_ , Gwen added to her mental report. She was aware of the rest of the team watching curiously; aliens they were used to; innocent-looking little girls were a rarity.

"Ianto," Jack called. "Do you have any hot chocolate for our guest?"

"I can go out and get some," Ianto said, as if he hadn't just spend the morning on a supply run.

"No thank you," she said, and Gwen added _well-mannered_ to her assessment. No distinctive accent; she could be from nearly anywhere.

"It's no trouble," Ianto said.

"I'm old enough to drink tea," she said. "If it has a lot of milk in it. And sugar, too."

Ianto smiled at her. "I'll have it for you in a few minutes."

"Bring it to the boardroom, if you don't mind? It'll be faster to warm up than out here." But the tension in his eyes was still there. "I'll join you in a minute."

He headed toward his office, already pulling the phone out of his pocket.

Gwen took hold of the girl's hand, and led her through the Hub. When they reached the glass-walled room, warm air was already blowing.

"That wet hoodie can't be very warm," she said.

"No," she said, and pulled it off. Beneath, she was wearing a lavender t-shirt with a picture of a rodent and the words Marjorie Meerkat in glittery lettering, and purple shorts. Inappropriate for the weather, but unlike the hoodie they were clean and in good repair.

Gwen took a second look. The girl was tanned, and even a bit sunburnt. She didn't look like she'd come from the UK in May.

Had she fallen through the Rift? If so, from when? Not very far in either direction, Gwen thought, based on the clothes. Though who knew how long the standard summertime uniform for children would last.

That, at least, wouldn't be hard to answer. But she didn't want to alarm the girl. "Debs, can you tell me what day it is?"

"The twenty-third of July."

"And the year?"

A skeptical expression crossed the girl's face, but she'd clearly been taught to answer adult's questions, because she said "Twenty-sixteen."

She'd barely been born, yet. Gwen wanted to take the girl in her arms, but she still didn't know what she'd been through. She didn't want to frighten her. 

Though the girl certainly didn't seem traumatized.

Of course, she might not even have realized what had happened, and she certainly didn't grasp the implications yet. How was she supposed to tell a child -- let alone, she thought, the child's parents. _"Oh, hello, you see that infant in the cradle? Well, because she's fallen into a rift and traveled backward in time this girl here is your daughter. Good luck explaining her to all of your friends, let alone the authorities."_

"What's wrong?" Debs asked.

"Nothing."

She sighed. "Grown-up _always_ say that. Or they'll stop talking when you walk in the room, like they're scared you'll hear something bad." She lowered her voice. "Especially when they're talking about the _Brexit_."

That was a new one. "What's that?"

"I don't know. When I ask, everyone looks at each other as if they're hoping someone else will explain it. It's like when I asked where babies came from, except then they finally did tell me that."

"Let me guess," Jack said, coming through the door with a steaming mug of tea. "The stork brought you?"

"No, they got me from the _adoption agency_ , because Mummy was sick when she was a little girl and couldn't have a baby." She looked at Jack, her expression serious. "I do know how babies are made, though."

"Oh, Jack's already familiar with the process," Gwen said, before she could start giving details. "Really, we're more interested in how you came to be in Cardiff."

"By car. It must've been _hours_. Though I was asleep for most of it."

"If you were asleep, you can't have been the one doing the driving," Jack said.

She giggled. "I'm only seven-and-a-half, I'm not allowed to drive!"

"My mistake. Who was doing the driving?"

"The man with the drums."

"Did he have drums with him? Like a one-man band?"

"No." She frowned. I heard drums when I was near him." She frowned, and squinted. "When I was up close, they were so loud they made my head hurt."

"So why didn't you go farther away from him?"

"He told me he needed my help."

"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" Gwen managed to keep her voice calm.

"I don't think he was a stranger."

"Why?" Jack asked. "Where did you know him from?"

"I don't know. He just seemed -- familiar."

"Even though he was making your head hurt?"

"He said he was sorry. Then he touched my forehead. When I woke up we were in Cardiff. I suppose we must have stopped somewhere for the night; it was afternoon when we left Little Minchley -- that's where I live -- and morning when we got here. But I slept through it." Her small face suddenly grew serious. "Mummy and Daddy must be so worried!"

"We'll contact them as soon as we can. What are their names?"

"Reginald and Ann Popper." She rattled off a phone number, and Gwen wrote it down, though if she was doing her maths right, the Poppers who were alive right now would still be going through the early stages of the adoption process.

"I'll have Ianto call them," Jack said. "But first, just a few more questions. What happened when you got here?"

"It was raining, so he gave me his hoodie to wear. Then he went and asked a woman and she gave him her umbrella, and he brought it to me, and he said to wait there until someone came up to me, and to tell them I needed to see the Doctor.

"Which is where we came in." Jack rubbed his eyes, and for a moment Gwen imagined she could see the weight of the centuries he'd lived. But then he smiled. "This might sound like a funny question, but do you happen to have a fob-watch?"

"No, just this," She held out her hand to show off a wrist-watch. "My dad gave it to me so I would learn to tell time properly. He says that kids these days don't know how to tell time because they all have digital watches. And Tommy Harrison-Watley -- he's in year four -- got an iWatch for Christmas, but he lost it, and when his mum picked him up she yelled at the teacher because it had cost a lot of money. That's not fair. She wasn't the one who lost it." She looked down at her own watch, then said "It must need new batteries, it says it's half past five."

Gwen was trying to figure out how she could explain that one, when Jack touched her arm. "Officer Cooper and I have to talk."

She followed Jack out, just as Tosh was headed up. "I did pull up some footage, but it's not particularly helpful. The man who brought her was obviously aware of the cameras; he never once looked up." 

"And the car?"

"A silver Fiesta; he left it at the Red Dragon Centre. It's ubiquitous enough to make tracking from camera to camera difficult." Tosh grinned. "Fortunately, I'm a genius. It emerged from the area that suffered rift-related power outages approximately three minutes after the peak. He hasn't returned to it, instead heading off on foot. A few minutes later he got a black umbrella, apparently just asked for it and the man gave it to him. I lost him in the crowds"

"Well, let's got out to see the car. At least it's close."

"What about her?" Gwen asked, looking back at the small figure in the boardroom. "We're going to have to tell her sometime that she's trapped in 2008."


	6. Playing Telephone

The Doctor set the TARDIS down on an obscure, rocky shore on the Cornish coast. It was the wrong time of year for holidaymakers, which meant it was the perfect place to work undisturbed.

Besides, everyone else was otherwise occupied.

It didn't take long at all to access the satellite data from earlier that day. Sifting through the data, he found the path of the Vinvocci ship. He followed the path forward to see where it had put down -- only to discover that it hadn't.

The Vinvocci had left the Sol system, presumably with Wilf still onboard.

He scrubbed his hand over his face, then winced as his fingers touched the scabbed-over cuts and scrapes.

As soon as he knew Wilf was safe, he'd tend to his own injuries.

His eyes lost focus, and he swayed against the console. He might have fallen, if the ringtone from his pocket hadn't jolted him back to awareness.

The only person who had this number was -- "Martha!" He managed to make his voice, at least, sound normal. "I suppose you're wondering about what happened with everybody, ah, transforming -- "

"What?"

He checked the data on the screen. "Oh. Right. Hasn't happened to you yet. Nevermind, forget I said anything, I've already got it sorted." And for her family, who had already been deeply traumatized by the Master, it must have been a thousand times worse. "How would your folks feel about spending Christmas on Barcelona next year?"

"Mum's always wanted to go to Spain."

"Not that Barcelona."

"There's another one? Space Barcelona? Not sure my mum would be up for that."

He'd have to think about something else. Maybe he should tell Martha. He'd decide once he'd gotten Wilf safely back on Earth. Or maybe he should ask Wilf for his advice? He realized that Martha had said something that he'd competely missed. "Sorry, bit distracted here. What was that?"

"The real reason I called. Jack asked me to pass on a message. He needs to talk to you."

"What now?"

He hadn't meant to say it aloud, didn't realize he had until Martha said "he says it's about the Master."

Loss hit him like a punch in the gut, nearly doubling him over. For a few, fleeting moments, he'd thought that they would get a chance to start again. "I'll call him."

"The Master is dead. Isn't he?"

"Time Lord, remember? Had his own TARDIS, and he was always popping up when I least expected. He spent a fair amount of time on Earth in the seventies -- or was it the eighties? Did Jack mention if he had a goatee?"

Martha laughed, but it sounded shaky. "No mention of facial hair either way."

"Right, then," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else and he couldn't bear the silence right now.

"Doctor. Promise me you'll call Jack."

"Of course."

"Right now. As in as soon as I hang up with you, none of this "I'll take a little jaunt to space Barcelona and call when I come back to this timezone."

"I'll call him as soon as I hang up with you. Cross my hearts."

"Right, then. I'll let you go. But Doctor, if it is the Master -- "

"You have nothing to worry about."

"Right. Call Jack." And then the connection cut off. He rubbed his hand over his face, and considered breaking his promise. But if it was the Master -- 

What if it was a younger Master? He knew, now, what the source of the drums was. He could tell him, he could prevent -- 

But even as he thought it, he knew he couldn't. The Master's actions had woven themselves into Time; trying to unpick one thread would cause the whole thing to unravel.

A laser blast in a silent house, the flapping of reapers' wings; he'd learned, all too well, the cost of trying to change a fixed point.

He forced a smile to his face, and rather than using the mobile, he picked up the receiver on the console. He didn't need to wait for a dial tone or use the buttons; the TARDIS was already forwarding the call through time and space.

"Hello?"

"Jack."

"Doctor?" He sounded surprised, and the Doctor winced; he owed Jack better than that.

"Martha asked me to call you."

"I came back from checking on some rift activity and found a little girl sitting on top of the invisible lift. She'd come from July 2016, and at first I thought she might have fallen through the rift, but she said that she was brought there by a man, and that when she was near him she heard drums."

"Only when she was near him?"

"As far as I can tell. I asked if she had a fob-watch, she said no."

"So probably not a regeneration of the Master. Unless -- "

"Unless what?"

"Unless she's lost the fob-watch somewhere. What about her parents?"

"That's another thing. She's adopted, never met her birth parents, and since she was born in 2009, the records don't exist yet."

The Doctor felt his stomach do a sick lurch. _The one thing he'd thought he could salvage --_ "Did she describe this man?"

"Light blond hair, thirties or forties. When we found her, she was wearing a black hoodie that she said he'd given her. I was thinking of showing her a picture of 'Harold Saxon' and seeing if she recognized him, but I wasn't sure it was a good idea."

"Even if she was another chameleon-arched regeneration of the Master -- which I doubt -- it wouldn't trigger more than a vague sense of deja-vu. Make sure someone looks after her, but she doesn't need to be thrown in a cell in the bowels of Torchwood."

Jack's silence as good as told him he'd been thinking about it.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," the Doctor said.

"I'm looking forward to it. You can meet my team."

"I already have. But since they haven't met _me_ yet -- "

"I understand."

"I'll call you as soon as I get there."

He set the phone back in its cradle, input the location of the Vinvocci homeworld, then threw the lever to dematerialize the TARDIS.


	7. Investigation and Evasion

Once they'd left the Hub, it was only a minute's walk until they were at the car that the mysterious "man with the drums" had abandoned.

Jack pointed to one of his readings. "It's definitely come through the Rift."

Gwen popped the lock the old-fashioned way; it was good to stay in practice Then the search began.

In the glove box, Gwen found the car's papers. "It's last been registered in East Sussex -- in the year 2016."

"Not surprising, considering that's when Debs said where she was from." He glanced at the address over her shoulder, then consulted his wristband. "The owner lives in Crowborough; that's not far from Little Minchely. He could have stolen it, lured Debs to him, and it's only about a four hour drive to Cardiff and the rift. Once he's no longer transporting a child, he abandons the car and takes off on foot."

"Yes, but Jack, think about it. This car was bound to be found by someone, and at least likely to have been searched. It wouldn't have taken very long to find out that it was an anomaly."

"Maybe," Jack said. "If someone took a minute to look at it properly. It might have sat in impound for ages."

"Sooner or later, though, it would have to be searched. And there's another car with all of this same information in the computer; they'd contact the owner who'd say his car was sitting just where he'd left it, and -- "

"Everybody would realize there was a time traveler who'd stolen a car and brought it back eight years into the past?"

"Maybe not exactly that," Gwen said. "But it would be bound to get someone wondering."

"They'd find some way to reconcile it and move on. Forged papers, an insurance scam, something like that."

"But whoever brought the car must have been confident of that, to just leave it." Gwen frowned. "Or they don't care, which is more frightening."

Jack was silent, as if he couldn't even bring up the energy to joke.

"You think it has to do with whatever the Eater of Worlds is?"

Still no answer.

"Jack. Something is bothering you. I wish you'd trust us -- trust _me_ \-- enough to talk about it. Ever since you came from seeing the Doctor. And it's gotten worse since Debs showed up. What is it about her -- " She frowned. "The man with the drums. That's when it started. Who is he?"

"I spent a year in an alternate timeline. I was a prisoner. I was -- it doesn't matter. In that timeline, I had to watch you die. You, Ianto, Tosh, Owen -- all of you."

"Oh, Jack -- " She reached out, but he pulled away.

"It doesn't matter. It's done with. Erased." He gave her a tired smile. "And I just want to put it behind me." He closed the last sample case decisively, and sat down in the driver's seat. "I'll drive it to cold storage. We can figure out how to dispose of it later. Meanwhile, I want you to get Debs to a safe house. Ianto has the list."

"But -- "

"Our cells are full up," he said, the Captain Jack Harkness patented grin back in place. "Unless you think she'd get on with Janet?"

Then he shut the car door, their conversation clearly over. He drove away, leaving Gwen to shake her head after him.


	8. Planet of the Cactuses

The cactuses had treated Wilf well. Given him a nice room with a comfortable bed, and plenty to eat, even attempted to recreate a few "Earth delicacies" for him. Most of what they'd created hadn't been that bad, even if the flavors were off a bit, but the sheperd's pie --

He'd almost wished for bread and water, and a cell somewhere. If they'd honestly treated him like a prisoner, instead of an honored guest, maybe he would've felt less guilty.

But he was a prisoner just the same. He might have the run of the place, but even if he'd had any confidence he could fly one of their ships, the landing pads were forbidden even to guests. And they just looked at him sadly when he tried, and called someone to escort him back to his suite.

Was he, he wondered, the last human? It seemed likely; everyone on Earth was the Master.

If he couldn't save humanity, at least he could die with them. But no, he'd deserted his post -- 

He hit the button that drew the curtains back, and stared out at an alien world. He would've thought that cactuses came from a desert planet, but instead it seemed to be some sort of jungle, at least where this city was located. On the equator, the alien who'd called herself Addams had said. Because it's easier to launch from here.

There was a beeping that passed for a doorbell here; more cactuses to look at him sadly when they brought his food. "Go away!" he snarled.

"You have a visitor, Honored Wilfred."

He sighed. He didn't feel like company, but it would be rude to send them away. "Come in."

The door sighed open -- and he did a double-take, because the Doctor stood in the doorway. He looked the worse for wear, battered and bloodied, but very much alive.

"Hullo, Wilfred."

Before he could even think about it, he'd flung his arms around the Doctor. He felt him wince, though. "You're hurt."

"Nah, nothing a few hours of shut-eye won't fix."

He didn't quite believe it, but wasn't about to argue.

"The Earth -- is it -- "

"Still a testament to the Master's vanity? Nah, got that all sorted. U.N.I.T. is probably working on a cover story as we speak, and in another few weeks everybody will have convinced themselves it was a bad dream caused by an overly spicy curry. Let's go home. I was hoping to pick your brain on something."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Wilf followed the Doctor through the door. Now that he was leaving, he found it no burden to smile at the cactus. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The Doctor had set the TARDIS down just outside of the building. They went inside and Wilf watched while the Doctor fiddled with the controls. He threw a lever and then checked one of the dials.

"So, Doctor, what advice did you want?"

The Doctor looked at him as if he'd forgotten he was there. Then his eyes rolled, and he pitched forward.


	9. Safe as Houses

The safe house proved to be a studio flat a few blocks away from Cardiff Castle. While Debs looked around, poking her head into the empty cabinets in search of something entertaining to do, Gwen surveyed the cupboard that held the food. It was all pre-packaged and looked like it might survive a nuclear blast, but somehow she doubted that she could convince Debs to actually eat it.

"Would you like to order pizza?"

"Pepperoni?" Debs asked.

"Sounds good."

"Or we can go out to get it," Debs said, a pleading smile on her face. The poor thing had been cooped up all day, Gwen realized. Of course she would want to get outside. But of course, that would be a good way for her to realize that she was no longer in her own time. All she'd need was a glimpse of a newspaper.

Gwen couldn't risk it.

There was a small television, a VCR, and a stack of tapes. Debs looked at them curiously. "What are these?"

"Videotapes," Gwen said. She looked through them; the most child-friendly of the lot was probably "Bend It Like Beckham," and "The Time Machine" was right out. Gwen wondered who had picked the movies while setting up the apartment. Ianto?

"We can watch while we wait."

"May I use the toilet?"

Gwen had already checked; there wasn't any windows large enough for her to wriggle through. "Right in there."

She ordered the pizza and then, while the phone was out already, called Rhys. "I'm sorry. I won't be home tonight."

"Again? Sorry, I just -- "

"I understand." She wished again that she could tell him -- "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't forget, we're meeting with the florist on Saturday."

She would have expected him to beg off in favor of playing footie with his mates -- but she supposed it was the only time he'd get to see her. She regarded the closed door, and the girl beyond it. "You ever think about having kids?" she asked, without meaning to say it.

"Upcoming nuptials making you broody?"

She laughed, and then Debs came out. "Do you have a laptop?" she asked. "Maybe we could watch Netflix."

"Is that a kid? Your boss has you babysitting?"

"I'll explain later," she lied.


	10. Rest and Recuperation (But Not Regeneration)

The first thing the Doctor was aware of was that he was lying on a hard surface. Though there was something slightly softer under his head. That was something, he supposed.

The next thing he was aware of was something wet and chilly passing over his face. He forced his eyes open and looked into Wilf's anxious face.

"Doctor! You're _awake!_ "

He pushed himself up to a sitting position. Everything still hurt, but a little less than before. And the bone-deep exhaustion that had dragged at him before seemed to have lightened.

"You've been unconscious for a day and a half. I couldn't move you, and honestly I was afraid to try. I was afraid I'd lost you!"

And if he had, the Doctor thought, Wilf would have been trapped on the TARDIS for the rest of his life. Alone.

He pushed himself to his feet, waving Wilf away when he would have tried to help him. His first steps were limping, but once he got moving it was easier. He led the way to the kitchen, and put the kettle on.

Wilf looked around, wide-eyed. The Doctor supposed the range of tech, from seventeenth to fifty-first century, and from different planets altogether, would be a bit much. Still, what he was looking for would be easily familiar to a twenty-first century Briton. Even if his teakettle ran on plasma rather than electricity.

He pulled down two mismatched beakers, and put in the teabags. "I'd have expected something more exotic than PG Tips," Wilf admitted.

"Careful what you wish for." Once the water was boiled, he poured it over and left it to steep. He could have put it in what would seem to Wilf like a microwave, but actually controlled a local time field so that the five minutes to brew took only as many seconds, but that would just be showing off.

"Doctor, what happened after you -- after I was abducted?"

"The Master was stopped. Everything went back to normal. Except maybe not, because there's an incarnation of the Master in 2008 Cardiff, and if he'd been then the first time I was there, I'm sure the incarnation you and I have just dealt with would have known it."

"The Master -- you said he was stopped. Was he ... did you ... ?

"Kill him? No, but I thought I saw him going to certain death."

"And you're not sure whether you should hope he's the one here or not."

"Yeah." He took a tentative sip of his tea, letting the tannin-filled steam rise and then fill his lungs. "Only thing I know is, whatever Master he is, I need to find him and make sure he does no harm to anyone else."

But he knew it would be nowhere near that easy.


	11. 2 A.M. Wake-Up

The ringing of the phone jolted Reg Popper from sleep. Neither he nor Ann were in the type of jobs where people called them after working hours, and the first thing he thought was that it was some sort of emergency; one of their parents in the hospital, maybe the heart attack Ann's father joked about, like whistling past the graveyard.

"Hello?"

"Daddy, it's Debs."

He felt something twist loose inside him. Though he liked kids (he'd seen what happened to teachers who didn't; it wasn't pretty) he'd never felt strongly about it one way or another. When Ann's doctor had given her the bad news, that she would never be able to have children, he'd felt a pang of disappointment, but not the wrenching anguish Ann had felt. She'd offered to let him go, let him find a woman who could "give" him children.

Now, two years later, she'd brought home papers to start the adoption process. But until a girl's voice called him "Daddy," he hadn't even been sure it was something he cared to pursue.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he said. "I think you've got the wrong number."

"Daddy, it's _Debs_ ," she repeated, and he heard something frantic in her voice.

He looked at the clock, and wondered what a girl was doing placing a call at half past two in the morning. "Are you in trouble?"

"Daddy -- "

He opened his mouth to ask where she was, so he could call the police and send them round to check on her, when he heard a woman's voice in the background. "Debs, sweetheart, you've got the wrong number."

"I know my own phone number," she protested, but her voice was farther away.

"I'm very sorry to have bothered you, sir," the woman said. "She had a bad dream."

"Don't worry about it," he said, and hung up the phone. He looked over at Ann, snoring lightly. He'd been up late grading essays, he was tired enough to fall back to sleep almost immediately.

In the morning, he would only vaguely remember having an odd dream about the child. But he would fill out the adoption paperwork over breakfast, and drop it in the mail on the way to school.


	12. Late-Night Expedition

"Debs, sweetheart."

The little girl looked up, wild-eyed. Then she turned and bolted for the door. She was closer; Gwen couldn't stop her from getting out. She ran down the hallway of the apartment building and took the stairs three at a time, with Gwen hard on her heels. One time Gwen almost caught her, but she ducked sideways at the last moment, and was out the front door.

Debs was halfway down the block before Gwen caught up with her in front of a newsagent's shop. She picked the girl up; immediately, Debs started kicking and thrashing and letting out ear-splitting screams that made Gwen regret leaving her ear protection behind at the range.

"Debs, calm down."

"Help! Police! Help, I'm being kidnapped!"

"Bloody -- " The girl's flailing foot slammed into her kneecap. "Fuck!"

"Gwen?"

She turned to see Andy Davidson with his new partner; she'd met the man in passing, but couldn't for the life of her remember his name.

"I've been kidnapped!" Debs asserted, thought at least she was no longer a blur of kicking feet.

"Torchwood's grabbing kids off the street now?" Andy's new partner -- Gav something-or-other, she remembered now -- asked, a bemused expression on his face.

"I've been _kidnapped_ ," Debs repeated, but the confidence had drained from her voice. She went limp, and Gwen lowered her to the ground, though she still kept a firm grip on the collar of her shirt in case she decided to run again. Debs leaned away from her, pressed her face against the glass of the shop window. Gwen could hear her sniffling.

"Do you mind telling us what's going on?" Andy asked.

"Sorry. Classified." Though the way thing were going, they might as well take out an advert in the papers to announce their current activities.

Debs took a sharp breath, and cupped her hands against the window.

Of the newsagent's shop, Gwen realized belatedly. She tugged Debs away; the girl whirled to face them. "Who is that? In the paper. That's not either the old PM or the new PM."

Now Gwen saw what she was looking at; the headline read PM VISITS WASHINGTON, MENDS FENCES.

Andy raised his eyebrows; he was clearly putting the pieces together. "Course that's the new PM," Gav what's-his-name said. "Couldn't very well be the old one, he's dead."

Debs sighed. "The new PM is a _lady_ ," she said, as if she was explaining something he should already know. But then her eyes narrowed. "What's today?"

Gwen opened her mouth to tell her that they should go home, but then Gav ( _Singh_ , Gwen finally, pointlessly remembered) said, "May twenty-seventh. Well, twenty-eighth now."

"What's the year, please?"

"Maybe we should just -- " Andy started to say, but Gav was already answering.

"Two thousand eight."

"I won't be born for almost nine whole months!" It came out nearly as a wail.

Now Gav's eyes got wide. "What -- "

"Torchwood," Andy said. "Don't ask."

"Right." He took two steps backward, then turned to continue walking his beat. Andy fell into step with him.

Gwen turned her attention back to Debs. She slid down the wall and hunched into herself. "I want to go home," she whispered.

"I know you do, sweetheart."

"I got here, there has to be a way for me to get home. Doesn't there?" She looked pleadingly at Gwen. " _Doesn't there?_ "

"I don't know. We're working on it."

She thought of telling her that the Doctor she'd been told to ask for might be able to help. But maybe he couldn't. Or wouldn't. He certainly didn't seem fond of answering Jack's phone calls.

Where, she wondered, was the line between real hope and false?

She picked Debs up and this time, the girl didn't fight her. Her tears soaked Gwen's shoulder, as she carried her back to the safe house.


	13. The Importance of Science Education

Gwen brought Debs into the Hub at half past eight. She had already told Jack that she'd figured out that she was in the future; there was no point in trying to keep her completely sequestered. So Jack wasn't surprised to see that she was wearing some new, warmer clothes; Jeans and a pink raincoat that would probably be eye-searingly bright to anyone who hadn't lived through the nineteen-eighties. Twice.

"How are you this morning?" Jack asked.

"Very well, thank you. And you?"

"Gwen told me that you tried calling your dad. That you know you're in 2008."

She nodded, her being-polite-to-grown-ups smile slipping.

"I've got a friend who would like to meet you."

Over Debs's head, Gwen shot him a questioning look. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but she'd had plenty of time to learn to see through that one.

"Debs, come on. Gwen, you'll hold down the fort 'til I get back?"

Outside, it was another rainy day. Jack guided Debs down the waterfront. She looked longingly at the carousel as they passed.

It was only a few minutes' walk to the old Norwegian church. Debs headed to the door, but when she saw that Jack was heading around to the side, she followed him. The TARDIS was just beyond, and when Jack rapped at the door, Debs looked at him skeptically.

The door opened, and the Doctor poked his head out. He seemed older, Jack thought; there was something haunted, or maybe hunted, in his eyes. But he smiled at Debs. "Hello there."

"Good morning," Debs said.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor. And you must be Deborah Popper."

"I'm very pleased to meet you," she said, and shook his hand. "Everybody calls me Debs."

"Debs it is. Won't you step inside?"

She stepped through the door -- and stopped, so suddenly that if Jack hadn't been expecting exactly that reaction, he would have run into her. Then she reached her hand out, carefully, as if she was expecting to hit something; a movie screen, maybe. When it went in, past where the back wall of the police box should have been, she turned around. Darted out of the TARDIS, and Jack stepped out to watch as she circled it once, then came back inside.

"How's it done?" she asked eagerly.

"Dimensional transcendentalism," the Doctor said.

"What's that?"

Jack noticied, then, that there was a fourth person in the room. An older man, maybe in his seventies, and Jack felt his stomach twist over. When they'd first run across the Master, he'd looked like a harmless old man, too.

He'd love to believe that the Doctor wouldn't spring the Master on him without warning. But he'd seen how deep the connection between them ran.

"Let's see. What level of physics have you reached in school?"

"I've only just finished year two."

"You'll have to wait until at least year nine, then."

"I know a lot more than most of the other kids, though. I'm in the STEM club at school. And on Saturdays my mum and dad take me to the maker space in Eastbourne. I've learned how to read circuit diagrams and how to solder and there's going to be a two-week robot making camp in August and -- " She stopped suddenly, a stricken look on her face, when she remembered that the robot-building camp was eight years into the future.

"Well, dimensional transcendentalism isn't nearly as much fun as building robots," the Doctor said. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and held it up in front of Debs. "Let's take a look."

She drew back. "Will it hurt?"

"Not at all." He straightened and used it to examine Jack, then winked and rapped him lightly on the forehead. Jack obligingly said "ow" and grimaced, and Debs giggled.

"Your turn, Debs." The sonic hummed, and it seemed to make sense to the Doctor. He made "hmm" sounds, and then put the sonic in his pocket. "Debs, my friend Wilf will take you to the library for a few minutes. Wilf, do you remember how to get there?"

"Take the first left turning, fourth door on the right, don't under any circumstances go into the room with the green door."

Debs went obediently to him. "I remember when my granddaughter was your age," he said. "She loved the Jenny Linsky cat books."

"I read them all a few years ago," she said, and whatever Wilf might have replied was lost because they were too far away. The Doctor waited, watching, listening, until he judged the time was right.

"So," Jack said. "Is she the Master's latest regeneration?"

"She's his daughter."

"I wouldn't have thought that Time Lords and humans are close enough to create viable offspring."

"If there's someone with enough bioengineering skill, yes." He gave a rueful smile. "Anyone who made it to their third year in the Academy could have done it in their sleep.

"So she's half-human, half-Time Lord?"

"More like 99.9 percent human. The Master wasn't the only one who went to the Academy."

"But she could hear the drums."

"Think of her as a radio receiver permanently tuned to a single frequency."

"But if she's a receiver, that must mean that there's someone transmitting nearby."

The Doctor looked embarrassed. Jack wondered if he'd thought that maybe that would slip through unnoticed.

And suddenly, he was very glad that Gwen wasn't here. She'd never agree to what he was thinking.

"How close does she have to be to the Master?"

"At a mile, she'd barely notice the drumbeat unless she was listening for it. At a foot, it would be overwhelming."

So "Wilf," whoever he was, was at least not another incarnation of the Master.

"But it would work," Jack said. "I mean, we could take her out, drive around until she hears the drums, then get your friend to take her somewhere safe."

The Doctor looked at him. "You'd really be willing to use a child?"

"Only if she agrees to it, of course."

"For revenge?"

"The Master is a threat, and we've already got enough of those on our hands."

"More than the usual?"

"There's been some chatter about something called the "Eater of Worlds."

"Hardly anything literally eats worlds," the Doctor said.

"That's not quite as comforting as you think it is."

"No, I suppose not."

"Also, Debs said something about something called a Brexit…?"

The Doctor looked sad, almost disappointed. "Fixed point, I'm afraid."

"Does that mean we don't get eaten by the Eater of Worlds?" But he'd been a Time Agent long enough not to trust that logic. He'd met people who'd been orphaned by the destruction of their past, not just of their parents but of their entire universes.

The silence stretched, becoming awkward; he wondered how much longer this Doctor had been traveling in the few short weeks since Jack had seen him last.

Long enough to have met the rest of Torchwood, so he supposed he had that to look forward to.

"The Master -- the one we're chasing now -- do you know what he looks like? Is he one of the earlier ones, or the one who -- " he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I don't know."

"We could ask Debs, I suppose. Did you have pictures of the other ones? Even if she's not willing to help us track him down, she could at least let us know who we're looking for."

"You're not going to let this go."

"The Master, you remember him, killed a tenth of the Earth's population just for grins? No, I'm not going to just let him wander around and wait for him to start killing people, and I don't care how much you loved him."

The Doctor at least had the grace to look guilty. "Right. We'll ask Debs. But if she says no -- "

"I understand."


	14. Hide and Seek

The library on board the TARDIS was like nothing Wilf had ever seen. The shelves seemed to stretch upward to infinity, and sometimes he could swear that they moved when he looked away, bringing an entirely different selection of books to them behind their backs.

Debs was certainly finding enough to read. If the books she'd already stacked neatly on the floor were any indication, she was reading well above her age level. She pulled a battered copy of a Famous Five book on the shelf, and frowned. "I thought I'd read them all, but I've never seen this one before." She tucked it under her arm, and looked at the shelves again. "This is very interestingly arranged," she said, and he thought about Sylvia telling Donna that if she couldn't find something else polite to say, to say that it was interesting.

When Donna had been Debs's age, she'd been like her; maybe not reading so far above her level, but she'd certainly been voracious. Somehow, she'd faded, become all sharp jokes and defenses, and lost her curiosity.

For a few months, he'd seen that side of her reemerge. But then she'd lost the memories of that time, and she'd lost everything, and then some. At least before she'd been mouthy, but now he felt like she was just a shadow of her former self.

For a moment, he wanted to grab Debs and run, keep her away from the Doctor at all costs, before he could take the light from her eyes as well.

But he shook his head. It wasn't right to think about the Doctor that way; he hadn't meant for Donna to get hurt. And besides, Debs was out of her own time; she needed her parents and they must be frantic with worry. The Doctor was the only one who could get her home.

He heard the Doctor's voice, and the voice of the American. He remembered hearing that voice, when they'd been working together to save the Earth, but the Doctor had warned him not to say anything.

For a moment, he wondered what would happen if he disobeyed. If he said something about Donna's fate, could he save her?

Or would it only get her killed?

The Doctor made quick work of the introductions. "Any friend of the Doctor's," Wilf said, taking Jack's hand.

Then Jack crouched in front of Debs. "I have something to ask you," he said, "and I want you to think about it before you answer. You don't have to say yes, just because we're grown-ups asking you."

"Okay."

"The man with the drums -- he's very sick. The Doctor can help him, but we won't be able to find him because there are too many people."

"I found him before," she said. "I thought that there was a parade so I went looking for it."

"You don't have to," the Doctor said, and suddenly Wilf couldn't just stand by.

"You can't put her in harm's way -- she's just a child, I won't have it!"

"We won't be putting her in any danger," Jack said. "We'll only let her guide us to the right area. You can come with us; you'll make sure that we don't get her too close to the action."

He didn't think that she was safe on the same planet as the Master, much less the same city; he'd seen what the Master could do when he wanted to wreak havoc. But then, maybe the safest thing for Debs was if he was captured quickly. "All right, Doctor."

Debs looked disappointed when she went to put the Famous Five book back on the shelf, but the Doctor suggested she bring it in case they had to wait around. They stopped by a multilevel dressing room and the Doctor found him a multicolored umbrella, and the four of them headed out into the rain. It was a quick walk to an underground garage where they got into a black SUV.

Then Jack started driving, following a course through the city that, Wilf realized, was a fairly efficient grid. Debs sat in back, with Wilf on one side and the Doctor on the other. The Doctor watched her carefully.

They'd been driving for maybe forty minutes when Wilf noticed that Debs's fingers were twitching. The Doctor was watching, too. "Do you hear them?"

"I think so..."

"Have you ever played hot-and-cold?" Jack asked.

"Yes."

"This is the same basic idea. I'm going to start driving back and forth," Jack said. "You tell me when it's getting louder."

"Okay."

For the next several minutes, they worked their way through the streets and housing developments and parking lots near the yacht club, sometimes hotter and sometimes colder. 

"I've got an idea," Jack said, and headed for the motorway. 

"It's getting quieter," she said. Then he turned and started driving toward the bridge. Debs sat up straight. "Louder, louder, lots louder!"

By the time they'd reached the near end of the bridge proper, she was hunched over, her hands pressed to her ears and her face scrunched. She let out a little whimper and hunched against Wilf.

"Doctor, you can't -- " But he could see; there was no way to turn around.

"Keep driving," the Doctor said. 

They'd barely reached the top of the bridge when Debs started to relax. On the far end, Jack took the first possible turn-off and the Doctor was out of the SUV before it was even properly stopped.

"Jack, take them back by the long way 'round. No need for Debs to go back by this bridge."

"Wilf, you take the wheel," Jack said.

"I don't have a license anymore," he said. "Sylvia said I didn't need it anymore."

"Torchwood," Jack said, and grinned. "Nobody'll stop you."

Wilf was about to say something about people who expect not to be stopped, but the Doctor spoke first. "Jack. Take them to safety."

For a moment, Wilf thought that Jack would argue, but then he turned around and put his hands on the wheel.

"I can come with you," Wilf said.

"Stay with Debs."

And he shut the door, and headed back to the bridge. Jack sighed, and started the car.

Wilf felt like he was abandoning the Doctor all over again.


	15. Lost and Found

The Doctor walked back over the bridge, keeping his eyes out for anywhere the Master might be hiding. There was a stairway down to a trail, and another flight leading under the bridge. He followed that down, to a locked door that probably led to a utility room.

If the Master had gotten in, he would have left the door hanging on the hinges. So he climbed over the guardrail and into the overgrown plants.

Under the bridge, in the dark, he could see a faint luminescence. He hurried toward it, and found the Master slumped against the concrete support. He'd lost his black hoodie somewhere, and the Doctor thought the he could count his ribs, even when the guttering light wasn't illuminating him from within. 

"I should've known you wouldn't leave me to die in peace." The Master sounded resigned.

"Yeah, you should've," the Doctor said. He eased off his coat and slipped it around the Master's shoulders.

"Keeping me warm isn't going to be a problem much longer."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll get you back to the TARDIS, I think the Zero Room will stabilize you until we can come up with a permanent solution."

"I'm tired, Doctor."

The Doctor tried for a clever reply, but what came out was "I know."

"We've both lived too long."

"Yeah." He eased himself down to sit by the Master. "But we're too stubborn to just let go."

"Speak for yourself, Doctor."

"You didn't take off with your daughter just to drag her eight years into the past."

"I didn't realize you'd find out about her. Make her too human for me to change."

"You know what I'm wondering: why leave her at Torchwood? She was useless to you. You could've killed her, possessed her, eaten her, or just left her to her own devices."

"Quit trying to rehabilitate me, Doctor."

"You left her somewhere you could be fairly certain someone could get her to me, so I could take her home."

"She hears them too." His face was almost wistful.

"She hears them because of you. Because she's just Gallifreyan enough to pick up on your mental spillage."

His smile faded. "Ironic, that. On so many levels. Have you taken her home, yet?"

"No. She helped me find you."

"You should take her."

"I'm not leaving you here to die alone."

"And I'm not dying with you sitting there looking mournful."

"Then it seems we're at an impasse," the Doctor said. "Unless you're going to try to run again?"

"I don't think I could even stand," the Master admitted.

"I'll help you. That's all I've ever wanted to do, help you."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Not often."

The Master laughed, but stopped too soon. The flickers of light were becoming fainter and farther apart. "I don't think either of us is actually going to have a choice about this," he said.

"There's always a choice."

"Fine. I'll go with you. Now go and get the TARDIS."

"You think you're so clever."

"It's all I have left."

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and activated it, sending out a beacon. The TARDIS found the closest acceptable landing spot, just beyond the edge of the bridge.

"Curses," the Master said, deadpan. "Foiled again."

He let the Doctor put an arm around his shoulders, but when he tried to put one under his knees, he shook his head. "I'm not having you carry me."

He wasn't fighting. That was enough for the Doctor, he wasn't going to push it. He pulled the Master to his feet, and together, they crossed the rough ground to the TARDIS.

Once they were inside, the Doctor headed straight to the Zero Room. It occurred to him that the last time he'd had to use it had been when he was recovering from a regeneration caused by the Master.

They'd barely crossed the threshold when the Master sagged against him. The flickering had stopped, and for a moment, he thought he was too late…

And then the Master smiled. "They've stopped. They've finally stopped." The relief in his voice, more than anything he could have said, told the Doctor how bad they had been.

After that, it was the work of minutes to get the Master lying down, supported by air. He was asleep almost before then, and the Doctor allowed himself to think, maybe things would be all right after all.

But, he remembered, that left the Eater of Worlds...


	16. Rift Activity

Gwen took another life-giving swallow of coffee, and rubbed her eyes. Owen grinned at her. "Usually when I look like that in the morning, it's because of a girl, too."

"Oh, shut it," she said, but there was no heat behind it.

He shrugged and went back to whatever he was looking at on the screen. "Kids. Never my thing."

Tosh looked over at him, and it was all Gwen could do not to sigh. If this was a movie or a TV show, they'd end up realizing that they were perfect for each other. In reality, though, she suspected that if anything happened it would only end badly.

Better to leave them alone. After all, they had to work together. She couldn't imagine how Torchwood could possibly function without either of them.

Though given the dangers they faced, it was probably inevitable.

She forced her mind away from that grim thought, and took another sip of coffee, only to find her mug empty.

She'd taken two steps toward her goal, when Tosh yelped.

"What's wrong?"

"The rift -- it's -- "

That was as far as she got before half-a-dozen different alarms all began to sound at once. Gwen clawed out her phone and hit Jack's number, but she couldn't hear it ringing over the noise.

"Something's trying to come through!" Tosh screamed over the din.


	17. The Master, Savior of the Earth

Debs was almost done with her ice cream cone that Jack had bought her, despite Wilf's disapproving expression, when Jack's phone rang. He answered, but could barely make out Gwen's voice for the noise in the background, but it stopped after only a moment.

"Jack, the rift's just gone crazy!"

And then everything stopped. In the sudden silence, he heard Tosh's voice in the background. "It's going back to normal. Well, normal for the rift."

"What happened?"

"It just -- Tosh, you talk to him -- "

"It was like something was trying to come through the Rift, but it was too big to get through. But Jack, it was really trying." Tosh couldn't quite keep the quaver out of her voice. "I've never seen anything like it."

But he was pretty sure he knew who had.

"Time to go," he told Debs. "Try not to drip on the seat, Ianto will have a fit."

Neither she nor Wilf protested, and they were back in Mermaid Quay in a matter of minutes. Jack hurried to the Norwegian church, but found the far side empty.

He was about to ask Tosh to search for a police box, paradoxes be damned, when it appeared in front of him. Jack was pounding on the door almost before it had begun materializing.

Wilf had just started on what sounded like it was a suggestion to not bang on the door like an oaf, when the Doctor poked his head out.

"The Master. Where is he?"

"Somewhere safe."

_Safe for us or safe for him?_ Betrayal settled in his stomach like lead. "I need to talk to him."

"Why?"

"Because this time last timeline, he was in charge."

"I'm not sure what you'll be able to get out of him," the Doctor said. "He's been -- he's worse."

"Something tried to come through the Rift a few minutes ago. _It didn't fit._ I need to see the Master." And then, though it galled him, "Please."

The Doctor sighed, and turned away. "Wilf, why don't you take Debs back to the library? Jack -- " Jack followed, to a section of the TARDIS he couldn't remember seeing before. Maybe it hadn't even _existed_ when he'd been traveling with the Doctor, all those years ago.

A door swung open, and Jack stepped into a featureless pink-and-gray room. The Master lay in midair, his eyes closed.

"Master," the Doctor said, his voice soft, "we've come to ask you a few questions."

The Master didn't open his eyes, but his lips twisted into a parody of a smile. "Did you bring the hot lights and the rubber hoses?"

"No. I won't let him hurt you."

Jack didn't let his pain show on his face; he'd learned long ago that the Doctor would never feel the same way about him than he did about the Doctor. "I was hoping you'd tell me about the Eater of Worlds."

"Come to thank me?"

"What?"

"For saving the Earth."

"Saving -- "

"May twenty-ninth. 3:09 am. That's when they finally managed to get through the Rift. They expected no resistance. Instead they met an army of Toclafane, as far as they eye could see. They remembered that they had some urgent business in the Small Megalannic Cloud. You're welcome."

Jack wanted to grab him, shake him, put a fist through his face and out the other side. Instead, he turned and walked to where the door opened onto the corridor.

The Doctor returned a moment later, and shut the door behind him.

"So," Jack said. "On a scale of one to extinction event, how screwed are we?"


	18. Not a Group Hug

Gwen looked up as the Invisible Lift descended; she was surprised to see that Jack was alone. "Where's Debs?"

"She's with the Doctor. Everybody, we have to talk.

"Long as it's not a group hug," Owen muttered.

"I've got some intel on the Eater of Worlds. It's pretty much what it says on the tin; it'll swallow all of the life energy from Earth and leave it a dried-up husk. In the alternate timeline where I was stuck, the maniacal alien who had seized control of the Earth was able to face it down with a vast army of angry metal spheres; in this one, we've got no army and a less than eighteen hours to figure out how to stop it."

Gwen exchanged worried glances with Ianto, Tosh, and Owen.

"Come on, people," Jack said, his grin turned up to eleven, his eyes fever-bright. "We've face certain death before and we've managed to save the day."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Owen asked. "Us or you?"

The grin faltered, only for a second, but Gwen doubted the others had missed it.

"We could try bluffing it?" Gwen suggested, because someone had to be the first to speak. "Try to look like the angry spheres are here even though the alien isn't?"

"Where are we going to get balls on such short notice?" Tosh asked, and though Owen smirked, he didn't rise to the bait.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be the spheres, does it?" Ianto asked. "Because I know where there's a whole warehouse full of Cyberman spare parts in London."

"Yes!" Jack said.

"I doubt a bunch of deactivated Cybermen will be much of a threat," Owen said.

"I may have a way around that," Jack said. Give me a few. Ianto, you and Owen get on the road to London."

"Have either of you ever driven a lorry before?" Gwen asked.

Owen and Ianto looked at each other, and shook their heads.

"Rhys let me drive them a few times. Said it might come in handy someday."

"Okay, then. Gwen, Owen, and Ianto, get on the road. Tosh, I think I'm going to have a job for you."


	19. Pep Talk

Wilf left Debs curled in a chair in the library, happily absorbed in the adventures of the Famous Five, and went searching for the Doctor. He found him in what seemed to be a workroom. He was wandering around, picking up one part or another, and then setting it aside.

"You have an idea?"

"Not a one," the Doctor said. "Can't save the world, can't save my best friend, maybe I should've died facing Rassilon. Gone out with a bang."

"Then what?" Wilf asked. "Whatever's coming through this Rift Jack was talking about would still be on its way."

"There's always a world, somewhere, that will need saving."

"What's this? Self-pity?"

"A bit," he admitted.

"Maybe you don't need to worry about saving all of the worlds, forever and ever amen. If you look at the big picture, it can be overwhelming. Maybe you just need to solve the problem that's right in front of you, rather than trying to solve everything. Just solve the first problem. And ... remember that you don't have to do it all alone."

For a moment, Wilf thought he'd gone too far. But then the Doctor grinned. "Thank you, Wilfred."

He moved more quickly, now, picking up components with assurance, and headed out of the workshop.


	20. Temporary Measures

The Doctor hesitated, outside of the Zero Room, his hand just off of the panel. But then he imagined Donna rolling her eyes at him, and that was enough to get him through the door.

This time, the Master at least opened his eyes.

"I've figured out a temporary solution," the Doctor said. "It'll let you get out and about."

"Who says I want to?"

"Why would you want to be cooped up in here?"

"It's finally quiet enough that I can hear myself think." He floated to a standing position.

"You'll go mad with boredom within a week."

"I'm already mad, remember?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Then held out a meter-long strap with a cuff on each end. "It'll act as a ground, feeding your energy discharge back into your body."

"That's hardly an elegant solution, but I suppose that's to be expected, considering the source."

The Doctor didn't rise to the bait. "You're better at bioengineering than I am. Working together, I'm sure we could come up with a permanent solution for that -- and for the drums."

"And let me guess, you've set the isomorphic controls on anything that would let me actually get out of here."

"You've hurt a lot of people. _Killed_ a lot of people."

"What if I say I'm sorry and I promise never to do it again?"

The Doctor didn't dignify that with a response.

"The Eater of Worlds is still coming, Doctor."

"Is that an offer of help?"

The Master waited for a moment, and then said, "Is that a request for it?"

The Doctor didn't know what the right answer would be; maybe there wasn't one. "Yes."

For a long moment, the Master said nothing, and the Doctor wondered if he'd pushed things too far. But then he let out a sigh. "You always did need someone competent around. So what's the plan."

"Don't have one yet."

"Of course. The Eater of Worlds should be quaking with terror at the thought." He looked at the door as if it was a snake he thought might bite him, and the Doctor realized that as soon as he stepped out of the Zero Room, the drums would be pounding through his skull again.

"Maybe we could use the Zero Room technology to make, I dunno, a helmet?"

"And I thought the hoodie was to be my ultimate low point in personal style," the Master said.

"No one's going to see it inside the TARDIS."

"I still have standards."

"Wait here, I'll see if I can't cobble something together." He stepped through the door, and his mobile vibrated. He looked at it. "Message from Jack."

The Master grimaced, but said nothing.

The Doctor played the message on speaker. "Doctor, if you can hear this, we're going to try to bluff the Eater of Worlds. My team is going to pick up some Cyberman spare parts, and I was wondering if you had any ideas how to make them at least stand up and look scary. Call me back either way; I need to know if we'll need a Plan B."

"Shouldn't be too hard," the Master said. "There are subroutines that essentially take over if the biological component is damaged. The problem is, if they've been powered down completely so that they're not a threat, they're going to need an activation pulse."

"It shouldn't be too hard to duplicate."

"No." The Master's eyes narrowed, and he began to sketch out a circuit diagram in the air, as if he could see it before him. "Power's going to be the problem. It's not just changing out the batteries; you'd need to alter whatever you were using to properly interface."

"And, of course, that risks activating the Cybermen completely."

The Master shrugged. "Depending on the time of day and population density, I predict no more than seven and as few as three fatalities per Cyberman before Torchwood either gets things under control or calls in U.N.I.T. With the alternative being worldwide annihilation; I'd say the human race is getting off cheaply."

"What if we beamed the power from the TARDIS? That not only avoids the need for individually altering every Cyberman, it eliminates the risk of full activation."

The Master frowned, concentrating. "The energy draw would be enormous."

"We're sitting on the Rift."

"We'd have to use some kind of relay; beam a pulse of power to a single receiver, which then distributes it to the Cybermen. Problem is, we'd fry the relay getting enough power to activate the Cybermen. We'd get three minutes, at most, out of the Cybermen, before they became inert again."

"How long did they stay before?"

"When they saw the Toclafane? They were gone in a hundred and three seconds."

"So it could work. In theory."

"We'd have to time it exactly. The problem being, shoving something that big through the Rift is likely to knock down power, cell towers, anything electronic. Including, unfortunately, Torchwood's radios."

The Doctor didn't want to think about how he'd found that out.

"We have to figure out a way to signal them. Maybe run a wire for Morse code?"

"The girl. Little what's-her-name. You said she can hear me."

"Her name's Debs, and I am not letting her go into danger."

"What's your alternative? You'll keep her safe on the TARDIS?"

"It's the best place for her."

"How will you explain to her that she's not only an orphan, but the last member of the Human race? How will you tell her that she's going to spend the rest of her life mourning a dead world? Killing her would be kinder."


	21. The Final Piece

Wilf watched as Debs looked through the library. She'd finished "Five Launch a Rocket Ship" and returned it to the shelf, and was searching for something to read.

He wondered if she'd ever get home. If she'd have a home to go to, after tonight. Though the fact she'd been born and had grown to seven years old would argue in favor of the human race's survival, he really wasn't sure how all of that time stuff worked.

The Doctor came through the door and Debs bounced over to him. He knelt in front of her, getting down on her level.

"I have something to ask of you, and it will be hard. It will probably hurt."

"I thought you already found the Man with the Drums."

"I did. But he -- the Earth is in trouble. There's an alien called the Eater of Worlds that's on its way here."

"That sounds scary."

"It is. But we have a plan to stop it. The problem is, we won't be able to talk to each other by mobile or radio. But you might be able to help. When you hear the drums, it's because you're picking up a telepathic signal."

"How can I hear it when no one else can?"

"I'm not sure, but I think that once, a long time ago, a human ancestor of yours married someone who wasn't human." He caught Wilf's eyes over the top of her head, and Wilf gave him the smallest of nods; he wasn't going to contradict the Doctor's comforting lie with the truth that her birth father was an alien madman.

"I read on the Internet that all people of European descent had a small percentage of Neanderthal genes, though. So why me?"

"This wasn't a Neanderthal. This was someone from another planet."

"The same planet you're from?"

To Wilf's amusement, the Doctor's mouth dropped open. "How did you -- "

"Your box is bigger on the inside and it appears and disappears from thin air. Plus you're not like regular people. You're _interesting._ "

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Wilf had to turn his laugh into a cough.

"Right," the Doctor said. "Actually, the Man with the Drums is about an eight hundredth cousin of yours. Which is why you can hear him."

"And you want me to receive the message."

"Yes. Now that he's feeling better, the Man with the Drums -- he actually prefers to be called the Master, by the way -- might be able to keep the drums quieter for you."

"Doctor, you can't ask her to -- "

"If I had any other choice, believe me, I wouldn't ask this of her."

"She's a _child_!"

"I can do it. My mum says I'm very responsible for my age. I help with the washing-up and mostly always put my things away without being asked."

The Doctor turned to Wilf again. "I don't like this any more than you so, so if you've got a better way, _please_ , tell me."

Wilf was forced to shake his hand.

They made a solemn procession through the TARDIS; finally, they reached a door. The Doctor opened it, and despite knowing that the Master would be there, he flinched.

The Master looked much subdued from the last time Wilf had seen him. Gone was the manic energy; now he just looked tired. He stepped out, and almost at the same moment, he and Debs winced. He closed his eyes for a moment, and some of the pain faded from Debs's face.

He crouched down and motioned her closer. "This is what you're listening for," he said, and dropped his forehead to hers. She tensed, her muscles going rigid, hands clenching, but before Wilf could intervene, the Master had pulled away and stood up. "You should probably test her range," he said.

Wilf stepped forward, put his hands on Debs's shoulders, and pulled her away. No matter how far away he got her, it wouldn't be enough.


	22. Be Prepared

The last person Jack wanted to see was the Master, and the fact that he seemed to have the run of the TARDIS was disturbing, despite the Doctor's reassurances that the controls were isomorphically locked. But he needed more information. "You said before that the Eater of Worlds broke through at 3:09. Can you tell me where?"

"In the timeline where I won, the rift opened in Bute Park," the Master said. "But with the TARDIS here, that's caused minor changes to the Rift. Breakthrough could vary by plus or minus twenty-seven minutes, and up to a mile north or south, and a quarter-mile east or west.

It was a whole lot less precise than he'd hoped for.

*

Gwen swallowed, hard. The back of the commandeered lorry was a scene out of a nightmare; twenty ranks of Cybermen, standing three abreast. Enough, she thought, to lay waste to a good chunk of Cardiff.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Ianto said, startling her, and how much worse must this be for him? She noticed that he didn't look into the back of the lorry, just kept moving. His face was set into grim lines. "This is a horrible idea. The only thing more horrible is letting something called the "Eater of Worlds" loose on the Earth."

Tosh slipped past her, and started attaching the remotes discreetly to the back of the Cybermen's heads. It wasn't until she was done and safely back into the fading sunlight that Gwen let out her breath.

*

Wilf looked down at Debs, as she bounced along beside him. Right now, she seemed a lot more excited about getting to stay up "way past her bedtime" than anything else. But she stopped, her head cocked. "I heard it," she said.

When she was listening carefully and the Master was deliberately sending (and that was a horrifying thought; what if he told her to kill someone?) her range was nearly three miles. That put her well within the range they needed to have the power relay, but far enough she wouldn't be in immanent danger.

Of course, if this didn't work, there would be nowhere safe. Except, the tiny, doubting part of his mind whispered, for the TARDIS. And what kind of monster was he that he didn't let Debs stay there?

*

Getting permission to temporarily mount a large dish antenna on top of Cardiff Castle would have been impossible for anyone else.

Fortunately, Captain Jack Harkness wasn't anyone else.

*

The Doctor looked up from wiring the circuits that the Master had mapped out, and sent a test charge through them, half-expecting a puff of smoke or other evidence of failure. Instead, they held beautifully, and for a moment, he was jealous of how easy the Master sometimes made things look.

Speaking of ...

The Master walked into the console room. He'd clearly come by way of the wardrobe, because he'd changed his t-shirt and denim for a black suit and charcoal turtleneck.

"At least it's not full ceremonial robes," he said, and the Master scowled at him. "Everything seems to be in working order."

Of course, the Master insisted on checking it himself. "Looks like you managed it to follow my directions," was all he said.

If a little verbal abuse was what it took to keep him cooperating, that was well worth it.

*

Gwen settled in the SUV next to Tosh, and got Jack on the headset. "Everything is ready on our end," she said. "There's nothing left to do but wait.


	23. Group Effort

Jack glanced at the chrono built into his vortex manipulator. Two thirty-two: ten minutes to the earliest breakout time.

If he trusted the Master.

It wasn't, he thought, as if there was a better alternative. The Master was the only source of intel they had.

"Almost go time, people. Everybody ready?"

The Doctor's voice came clearly through his headset, and, tinnily with a slight delay, through the sound-powered phone setup he'd run from the Hub to the TARDIS. "Team one is standing by."

*

"How come he gets to be in charge?" the Master asked, pro forma.

"He's the leader of Torchwood," the Doctor reminded him, because bickering would at least be familiar. "His people need to have someone they trust."

"I can be very trustworthy. And the rest of them don't ever remember me torturing them to death."

Before he could figure out a rejoinder to that, Wilf's voice came through the speakers mounted in the console. "Team two, standing by."

*

"Debs, it's time to wake up."

She curled into herself. "I don't wanna go to school. It's _boring_."

"No school tonight. It's time to save the world, remember?"

She pushed herself upright on the rug he'd spread out for her, and sat, rubbing her eyes with mittened fingers. Wilf opened the thermos and poured her a cup of milky tea; she swallowed it in three quick gulps, and pulled her wellies and raincoat on.

A woman's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie. "Team three, standing by."

*

Gwen stared out at the rainy dark, from behind the wheel of the lorry. Suddenly, the few hours' instruction from Rhys didn't seem at all adequate to the task.

She'd pulled every favor she had to get the streets cleared in the potential breakout zone. Still, it was nearly four miles of rain-slicked streets. She glanced over her shoulder to where Ianto was standing on the rear bumper, attached to the roof by a safety harness so he and Owen, who was clipped in on the other side, could get the door open immediately. Beyond them, just visible through the perception filter if she concentrated hard enough, was the police box, one door open, a lanky figure in silhouette against the bright light.

Beside her, Tosh checked her readouts again. The minutes seemed to crawl, until Jack's voice came on the radio. "Five minutes to break-out."

She turned the ignition, and the lorry's engine rumbled to life.

*

The last place Jack wanted to be was down in the hub, away from the action. Though intellectually he knew that if they failed there would be nowhere safe on Earth, he wanted to gather them all to safety.

But he knew that the hub wasn't necessarily safe. The previous attempt at breakthrough had caused havoc; success would probably cause even more damage.

If one of them had to suffocate down here in the dark, then it should be the one who would wake up later.

Minutes ticked by, and he wondered if the Master was wrong -- or if he'd been playing them all.

But then he saw the readings start to react to the rift activity. This was, he knew, going to be no ordinary rift flare.

"It's starting! Everybody get ready!"

*

Jack's voice was crackling in the headset, as if it was about to go out entirely. Gwen put the lorry in drive, but kept her foot on the brake. She craned her neck to see the light show splitting through the clouds. It started almost directly over the hub, but then began to streak along through the sky.

She hit the gas, and the lorry lurched into motion.

*

The walkie-talkie gave one final crackling screech, and then fell silent, leaving Wilf to the pounding of the rain and the chattering of Debs's teeth. He could see it coming, now; the bright light in the sky, racing toward them. He took hold of the connector, one part in each hand.

"Not yet," Debs said, and in the otherworldly light, her head cocked for a sound that only she would be able to hear, it was easy to think of her as half-alien. "We have to wait for the signal."

*

Jack could do nothing but watch as the instruments failed, one by one, as the rift strained. But then, finally, he saw the flare slowing, stopping, widening. "Breakout!" he called, just as a circuit blew, plunging him into darkness.

*  
"Breakout!" Jack's voice crackled through the speakers, and the Doctor threw the switch, sending power through the exterior of the TARDIS and up to the jury-rigged dish. "Now!" the Doctor shouted, and the Master closed his eyes in concentration.

*

"Now-now-now!" Debs screamed above the storm, and Wilf slammed the two halves of the connector together. He felt it, then, like every hair on his body was standing up, though he wasn't quite sure if it was from the power pulse or whatever was coming through the Rift.

*

Gwen yanked the wheel, turning the lorry as fast as she dared. She could feel it fighting her, and then the tyres lost grip on the wet streets, and for a moment she thought that she'd fucked up and killed them all, because not only would Ianto be crushed, if the Cybermen were in a heap they'd never be able to bluff the Eater of Worlds.

The lorry crunched into something, throwing her hard against her seatbelt, but it stayed upright.

In the rearview mirror, she saw Ianto jump down and open the door, then bend to pull out the ramp. Far away, on the castle roof, she thought she saw something flash.

And then she heard the tramp of metal boots.

Her training got her moving where atavistic fear would have kept her frozen; the Cybermen en masse were terrifying on a visceral level. In the uncertain light she could just make out Ianto's face; this must have been a thousand times worse for them.

The Cybermen marched toward the widening hole, and Gwen was suddenly terrified that she'd see them stop, that the bluff wouldn't work -- 

And then it was over.

The hole in time and space snapped closed. The Cybermen kept marching through where it had been for another minute, and then put their feet down one last time and stopped.

"It worked," Tosh gasped, slipping out of the lorry's cab. "It actually worked."

That was when the Cybermen turned en masse.


	24. Attack of the Cybermen

"Earth's saved, time to go." The Master eyed the console like he was considering the options for defeating the isomorphic lock. He'd already tried once, but the Doctor had programmed the controls to give him a mild shock if he touched them.

"Not planning on sticking around for your hero's welcome?" the Doctor asked.

The Master glared back at him.

That was when the shouting started on the radio. "The Cybermen!" Gwen called. "They're moving! On their own!"

"How?" the Doctor asked.

"They're Cybermen. They adapt." The Master sounded almost bored.

*

Jack pushed the door open, grateful for the smell of rain-freshened air. Suffocation wasn't the worst way to go, but neither was it much fun. He hurried toward the TARDIS, just in time to see it disappear.

There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He'd left the SUV parked at the Red Dragon Centre, just in case; he hit a button on the remote and it raised the barrier, then sped out onto the rain-soaked streets, following the path that his team would have taken.

What he found was a scene out of a nightmare. The Cybermen were heading back toward the lorry.

*

"We have to do something!" Debs stared, wide-eyed, down at the metal army. She took one step toward the stairs, and then another.

Wilf caught her before she could do anything stupid. He pulled her down, out of sight. "Come on, Doctor," he muttered into his mouthpiece.

*

Jack intercepted his team's line of retreat, and threw open the door. He threw open the door. "Everybody in!"

His team obeyed; not without protests from Gwen. "We can't just leave them -- "

"Anybody's radio working?"

Gwen handed her headset over. He hit the speaker button; he had more important things to worry about than whether his team might, at some point in the future, recognize the voice they heard. "What's happening? How are they staying active?"

"The Cybermen have managed to tap into the overflow from the power grid. They're very weak right now, won't have enough charge to fire their weapons, but if they establish a direct connection, they'll be able to come to full power -- "

"Any ideas?"

"Maybe if we reverse the polarity," the Doctor said.

"That never works," the Master snapped in the background.

"What if we knock out the power?" Gwen asked. "Say, just for a few city blocks?"

"Should work. You'd want to get the power units off as soon as possible, before they could find another power source."

"Maybe if we call the city," Gwen said, just as Tosh said "I could try to disable the grid."

"I've got a better idea," Jack said. He threw the SUV into a bootlegger turn, then accelerated back. The Cybermen were already on the move; once they got too dispersed it would be nearly impossible without taking down the whole power grid. If that would even work.

He saw the electrical pole with the transformers at the top. If they'd had a mylar balloon or maybe some explosives -- 

But they didn't. They had him.

"Jack," Gwen said.

"Everybody out. As soon as the power grid is down, disable the receivers."

She nodded, and they were out as quickly as they'd gotten in. He gave them a moment to scatter, then revved the engine. When he released the brakes, it leapt forward.

The Cybermen started to realize what he was doing; they moved to block him, but he was just fast enough to evade. He built up speed, sixty, sixty-five, seventy kph.

He was going nearly eighty at impact. The pole toppled like a felled tree, the power lines ripping free and plunging everything into darkness.

A more personal darkness was coming for Jack; he was pretty sure the steering column had pulped his heart. But he managed to hang on just long enough to see the faint forms of the Cybermen going still.

*

Gwen yanked a the power receiver from one Cyberman, not bothering to be delicate with Tosh's careful patch job, then moved on to the next. She wondered if the malign intelligence she felt was just her imagination, or if they were actually watching her, waiting to rip her limb from limb, or worse, make her one of them. But she didn't have time; she moved on to the next one, ripping out the receiver and then on to the next one.

And even now, they were drawing power. The fingers of the next one twitched, then its arm began to raise, slowly like in a nightmare. She evaded its grasp and stepped around to pull the grafted-on antenna loose.

But there were so many left.

And then she turned and nearly ran into Tosh, who was coming from the other direction. "That's all of them, the other woman gasped.

From far off, she heard sirens. She turned toward the crumpled SUV. "What are the odds Jack will wake up in time to talk to whoever shows up?"

"Either way," Owen said, "we should get him out before the power comes back on. I doubt he'd fancy dying twice in one night."


	25. All's Well That Ends Well

Jack pushed the CYberman forward just enough to get the edge of the dolly beneath its feet. He'd made an exception about alien tech this time; without twenty-eighth century gravity dampeners, the Cybermen would have been nearly impossible to move, much less load back into the lorry.

He passed Gwen, bringing another dolly down the ramp. "For once I'm glad this is all hush-hush," she said. "Otherwise I'd never live down crashing the lorry."

He grinned at her. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me.

By the time the clean-up was finished, it was getting light. Soon, the streets would be crowded with people on their way to church or errands or to see their friends or family. If anyone noticed anything, they would shake their heads and mutter about crazy kids or drunken drivers, and go about their day.

He intercepted Gwen before she could climb back into the cab of the lorry. "Why don't you head home," he said. "Ianto and I can drive the lorry somewhere out of sight, and we'll have a work party in a few days to properly disassemble our metal friends back there."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go home. Get some sleep."

Owen and Tosh didn't even put up that much token resistance when he sent them home. That left him with Ianto, who swung up into the cab to ride shotgun.

"You don't have to stay," Jack said.

"I don't think I could get much sleep, anyway."

"Kinda figured that." He got the truck into gear and pulled out into the gray, soft rain.

By the time he got back, he guessed, the TARDIS would be long gone. The Doctor had to return Wilf and Debs to their own time, Debs presumably none the wiser about who she really was. And then he and the Master would -- what?

Maybe it was better not to think about it.

He imagined his team going home, showering up and resting and living their lives. Gwen would probably be crawling into bed with Rhys right about now. And life would go back to normal, at least until the next emergency.

Ianto reached out, and twined his fingers with Jack's.

He knew nothing lasted forever; if nothing else, old age would take Ianto away from him.

But for now, this was home.


	26. Home in Time for Tea

Reg Popper looked out the kitchen window at Garden Lane. It was half-past four, and it would be light for hours yet, but Debs would be hungry from running around long before that. He could hear the yelling from down the street, as a game of hide-and-seek turned into a free-for-all.

He pulled out the bread and butter, cheese and a jar of pickle, and started making sandwiches. He started with three, though there were enough fillings to make them for a crowd, if Debs showed up with friends in tow. And if she ended up following someone else home for tea, well, more for him and Ann.

The best part of summer, he thought, was getting to be a stay-at-home dad for a few months. And, of course, house husband.

He poked his head into Ann's office. "You getting hungry?"

"Famished." She closed the client's spreadsheet and shut off her laptop. "Debs swept through yet?"

"Not yet." They walked back to the kitchen, and Reg was just about to ask Ann if she'd thought any more about where she'd like to go on holiday, when a screeching, grinding noise came from the back garden.

"What on Earth is that?" Ann asked.

He was about to take a look, when the door opened and Debs barreled in. She threw her arms around him, and then launched herself into her mother's arms.

"Are you all right?" Reg asked, looking for signs of a skinned knee or a bruise.

"I've missed you both so much!"

"You've just been outside," Ann said. "I saw you not five minutes ago, by Mrs. Patel's front porch."

"Oh! Well, I've been gone almost three days, except I went in a time machine so they brought me back to just after I left. I went to 2008 and met my eight hundredth cousin -- I did the maths, the closest our common ancestor could have been was in the Upper Paleolithic. Oh, and he's a telepath from another planet. Also I helped to save the world. In Cardiff!"

Ann looked at him over Debs's head, but he shrugged. Imaginative play was a good thing. "I've got cheese-and-pickle sandwiches, if you're hungry."

"Famished," she said, in a tone so exactly like her mother's that he had to grin.

He heard the scraping noise in the garden again, but paid it no heed.


	27. New Beginnings

Wilf watched as the Doctor worked the controls of the TARDIS. The Master had skulked off somewhere, and he wasn't sure whether he should be glad of it, or worried what he would do when nobody was watching.

"There you go," the Doctor said. "Home sweet home."

"Are you sure?"

"That it's home? Check a newspaper if you like, or just turn on the TV."

He looked out the door. From his vantage point he could see Sylvia taking out the trash, filled with ribbons and papers that had until recently been wrapped around Christmas gifts.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come traveling with you?"

"To watch my back?"

"I know you and the Master have known each other for a long time, but -- "

"Things are going to be different now. Maybe not right away. Maybe not for a long while yet. But whether he wants to admit it or not, he did help save the world today."

And two days before that, he'd tried to destroy it. "I still don't trust him, Doctor."

"I do." His smile was a brave attempt. "Though I may not take the controls off isomorphic for a few centuries yet."

"I don't feel right leaving you alone with him."

"Look there." Wilf followed where the Doctor was pointing, to Donna and Shaun, canoodling by the fence. Embarrassed, Wilf turned away.

"That's where your duty is now, Wilf," the Doctor said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Your family."

"Don't be a stranger," he said.

"Never."

Wilf stepped out of the TARDIS, and rather than look back to watch her fade, he faced resolutely forward, and headed home.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for Were_lemur's Story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399487) by [mific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific)




End file.
